


Mr. Fun Dip 2014

by luckie_dee



Category: Glee
Genre: Halloween, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-31
Updated: 2014-10-31
Packaged: 2018-02-23 07:36:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2539658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luckie_dee/pseuds/luckie_dee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Working at a Halloween store together wow try on this costume for me??</i> Prompt from <a href="http://luckiedee.tumblr.com/post/98882428647/lethophxbia-halloween-aus-deep-conversations">this post</a>. AU, but incorporates canon elements through s5.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mr. Fun Dip 2014

**Author's Note:**

> Everything I'm working on is long!fic and I feel bad that I haven't posted anything in a while, so here, have a little Halloween fluff. :) Thank you as always to [Lindsey](http://controlofwhatido.tumblr.com/) for the quick beta and setting me straight on how retail jobs work! ♥

“So,” Blaine says from over near the counter, where he’s filling the novelty nail polish display, “do you know what you’re going to be yet?”

Kurt glances at him from the other side of the aisle, where he’s hanging up a fresh shipment of men’s costumes. Working at a Halloween store hadn't been his first choice for making a little extra money leading up to the holidays, but he supposes there are worse options, like dealing drugs, or donating his organs on the black market, or the seasonal job at Target that would have required a red shirt and khaki pants during every shift. After his rejection from NYADA, Kurt's doing everything he can to make enough money to move to New York within the next year, but that would have been quite a sacrifice.

He certainly hadn't expected to enjoy the job as much as he does, but that has less to do with the job and more to do with Blaine. Blaine, who's charming and gorgeous and definitely gay. He's definitely still in high school too, a senior at Dalton Academy, but he's a floor manager, so at least Kurt knows that he's at least eighteen. Kurt _isn't_ so definite about whether or not Blaine is single – because he goes to an all-boys school, Blaine has an endless supply of male friends that he constantly talks about and to, but Kurt's not sure if any of them are _special_. He hopes not, because he's fairly sure that there's been some flirting going on during their shifts together. On the other hand, Kurt should probably cool it on that front. Blaine's his manager, after all.

Currently, he and Blaine are the only people in the store, closing up and doing some restocking that they hadn't finished up during their busy shift. With Halloween only ten days away, the store is definitely hopping. “Oh god, I have no idea,” Kurt replies. “I’ve been so busy lately that I haven’t given it much thought. I’ll probably just dig through my closet to find something suitably reality-star-fabulous.”

“I’m disappointed in you, Kurt,” Blaine says as he carefully straightens the bottles. “Halloween is in less than two weeks away, and you literally have all the choices in the world at your fingertips.” 

“Yes,” Kurt drawls, “and who wouldn’t want to wear this?” He holds up [an adult-sized Fun Dip costume](http://images.asadart.com/sources/com/halloweenexpress/images/imagecache/520-768-gc3985.jpg). “Is it just me or are costumes getting weirder and weirder these days?”

“You and I both know that’s far from the weirdest thing here,” Blaine retorts, with a not-so-subtle nod to the curtained-off eighteen-and-older area. He expertly flattens the carton he’d been emptying with a box cutter and rounds on Kurt, eyes bright. “We should find you a costume!”

“What?” Kurt asks blankly. “Here?”

Blaine ambles over to join him amidst the racks of men’s costumes. “What better place? Come on, Kurt. We get a fifteen percent employee discount. You can’t let that kind of benefit just go to waste.”

Kurt huffs out a laugh, but Blaine just watches him expectantly. “Oh,” Kurt says. “You’re serious.”

“I am,” Blaine confirms. He shifts the hangers on the rack, leaving the Fun Dip costume exposed. “Are you sure you don’t want to try this one on? I think it’s a really good option for you.”

With an exasperated roll of his eyes, Kurt snaps the costumes back into place. “No, thank you. I don’t have the right shoes for it.” More seriously, he adds, “Besides, Santana’s going to make at _least_ twenty jokes at my expense no matter what I dress up as, and I’m not going to make it that easy for her. The sleeve literally says _Lik-A-Stix_.”

“Aw, come on,” Blaine wheedles, and Kurt has to look away, pulling a fresh armload of garments out of a box so that he doesn’t end up dressed as adult-sized novelty candy because of Blaine’s stupidly persuasive (and, fine, _attractive_ ) puppy dog eyes. “I won’t tell anyone. It’ll be cute.”

Kurt's face heats up at the word, and he busies himself hanging costumes, willing himself to not be clumsy because he's flustered, just this once. “No way. I am not opening the plastic on that thing. Discount or no, I am not paying forty bucks for you to take a blackmail picture on your cell phone.”

“Okay, okay.” Blaine starts wandering between the racks, scanning the options. “Oh! Here.” He holds up a fake tattoo shirt for Kurt’s approval.

Kurt eyes it mistrustfully. “What am I going to do with that?”

“Wear it!” Blaine says. “With… this!” His other arm shoots up, holding up a faux leather vest dotted with metal rivets and studs. “You’ve already got the pants and the right footwear.” He rounds the corner and nods at Kurt’s tight black jeans and the chunky boots he’s wearing against the cool October night.

“And what am I… being, exactly?” 

“A rock star, obviously.” Blaine shoves the items into Kurt's arms and nudges him toward the dressing room. “Go ahead, try it on. I’ll go grab you an inflatable guitar and some accessories.”

“Okay, okay, okay,” Kurt relents, laughing as he heads for the back of the store. When he slides on the tattoo shirt, it’s skin tight – which Kurt supposes it should if it’s supposed to look like real tattoos, but it’s… really tight. Like, the kind of really tight where it should probably be bigger. He considers looking for the next size up, but eventually just slips the vest on to cover it. Even though he knows his chest isn’t _actually_ exposed, it still kind of feels like it is when he steps out of the dressing room to find Blaine waiting for him, his eyes going a little wider than usual when Kurt reappears.

“See?” Blaine comments after a moment of awkward silence. “That looks… great.” There’s a thin thread of strain in his voice, and he barely meets Kurt’s eyes before looking down at the costume again.

Kurt is both gratified and flustered by his response. He steps in front of the three-way mirror in the corner and twists like he’s trying to get a better look at all the angles. And he is. Partially. “Really?” he asks innocently, even as his face flames.

Blaine clears his throat. “Yeah. Here, I got you some other…” His voice trails away as he offers Kurt two cheap, fake-leather wrist bands, a clip on chain for his jeans, and a pink inflatable guitar.

The accessories help complete the look, but Kurt laughs as he accepts the guitar. “Are you sure this won’t ruin my street cred?” He strikes a pose in the mirror, putting on his best badass expression. In the reflection, he notices that Blaine's cheeks seem to pink. “It has its merits, I suppose,” Kurt muses. “I would need to do something different with my hair, and I would probably wear some eyeliner.” 

He’s not even talking for Blaine’s benefit anymore, but Blaine instantly chimes in. “There was a damaged makeup package in this shipment. It’s behind the counter.” 

Kurt meets his eyes in the mirror. It’s probably going too far now; it’s probably getting weird. But there’s a charge in the air, and Kurt finally feels like the last month of frustrated flirting might be about to bubble over into _something_ , so he says, “Oh, _fine_. I’ve gone this far. But I’m going to pick something out for you to try on while I’m putting on my face.”

Blaine’s eyebrows shoot up. “What?”

“Oh, come on, I’m all dressed up.” Kurt turns and passes back out into the racks of costumes. “In a costume you picked out, no less. Turnabout is fair play.” He pauses near the novelty display again, raising an eyebrow at Blaine and nodding at [an adult-size whoopee cushion costume](http://images.asadart.com/sources/com/halloweenexpress/images/products/GC7146.jpg).

“If you make me put that on, you’re going to be Mr. Fun Dip 2014 and there’s nothing you can do about it,” Blaine warns him. 

Kurt grins. “Relax, I’m kidding, I’m kidding.” He moves to the next rack and says, “Oh, okay, here –” He turns around, a pair of wide-legged yellow pants with dangling suspenders in hand.

“A fireman?” Blaine asks.

“Yup.” Kurt frowns down at the costume. “There’s no t-shirt though,” he points out, then blushes furiously. “I mean – I guess you’ll have to try it with your polo shirt,” he tacks on.

Blaine looks down at his cardigan. “No, I’ve uh… I’ve got one underneath.” 

“Perfect,” Kurt says, his face still burning. He shoves the costume at Blaine, adding the cheap rubber boots and plastic hat that go along with it. “Go.” 

While Blaine is changing, Kurt finds the mangled makeup box. It’s really poor quality stuff, of course, with even worse application tools, but he smudges some dark makeup around his eyes, satisfied with how it makes them pop. He’s doing what he can to tousle his hair when Blaine reemerges and Kurt’s mouth goes a little dry.

“So…” Blaine asks, propping one hand on his hip and rubbing his neck with the other. “How do I look?”

_Like a dream I had once_ , Kurt just barely doesn’t say. Blaine is small, but the t-shirt is thin and white and pulls across his arms and chest, and Kurt’s pretty sure he’d be able to see nipple if not for the suspenders. The pants make Blaine's waist look as tiny as it ever has. “Um,” Kurt says eloquently. “Really good.” 

Blaine perks up. “Yeah?” He props the plastic helmet on his head and grins, and the combination of sex appeal and cheerful enthusiasm is almost too much to bear.

“You just need a little something,” Kurt says, grabbing the makeup he’d been using and approaching Blaine slowly. 

“Oh?” Blaine squeaks.

“Mm-hmmm,” Kurt hums. He raises his eyebrows and wiggles the plastic makeup palette, then scoops up some dark powder on his fingertips, eschewing the shoddy makeup brush, and reaches shakily toward Blaine’s face. He pauses at the last second to shoot Blaine a look that plainly asks _okay_?

Blaine nods and lets his eyelids drift shut. 

Well, fuck. 

Kurt – with Herculean strength of will – ignores Blaine’s softly closed eyes and waiting expression, choosing instead to stick to his original plan and smudge makeup artfully on his cheeks, forehead, and chin, imitating soot left over from a fire. “Okay,” he says quietly when he’s done, snapping the lid closed over the palette.

Blaine blinks his eyes back open and tilts his head toward the mirror without stepping away from Kurt. “Perfect,” he says with a smile, and then turns back, locking eyes with Kurt.

They look at each other for a few, endless seconds.

Then the stupid plastic hat and the stupid plastic makeup container are both clattering to the floor as they lunge for each other, kissing fierce and sloppy while Blaine _thumps_ Kurt back into the wall. Kurt gets both arms around Blaine’s neck and fists one hand in the thin cotton of his t-shirt, and whether by accident or design, one of Blaine’s hands is wide and warm halfway up his back, under the pleather vest but over the stretchy tattoo shirt. They grapple against each other for a moment before _everything_ lines up just right, and Kurt lets himself sink into it while Blaine moans into his mouth.

It doesn’t go on _nearly_ long enough, coming to an abrupt halt when Blaine breaks away to say, “Um. Okay. Sorry.” He slides his hand out from under Kurt’s vest, much to Kurt’s chagrin. “Oh god, okay.”

“ _Totally_ okay,” Kurt reassures him quickly. 

“Not really,” Blaine mutters. “This probably constitutes sexual harassment.” 

Kurt snorts. “Well, I'm not pressing charges, and my job here is over in less than a month anyway.” They lean back far enough to exchange shy smiles, then rueful chuckles at the makeup smudged across both of their faces. “So, I guess that’s a yes on the costumes, then?”

Blaine bites his lip. “I, uh. I actually already have one.”

Kurt dares to pout at him. “But this one looks really good. What is it?”

“It’s – it’s dumb. It’s a superhero costume.”

Kurt’s mind is instantly flooded with images of spandex. “That, uh... doesn’t sound too bad. Which one?”

Blaine steps back completely, and Kurt frowns. “One I made up,” Blaine mumbles. “Nightbird.”

Pushing himself away from the wall, Kurt steps in close to him again and takes his hands. Blaine looks up bashfully, but he's wary too, like he's expecting Kurt to tease him. “Well,” Kurt asks, “does Nightbird have a sidekick? Someone who should stand loyally by his side at say… Rachel’s Halloween party? Or Wes’s?”

“Um… Hot Rock Star Guy?” Blaine suggests, and Kurt laughs out loud.

He glances down at himself, straightening his arms. “Tattoos really do it for you, huh?” He should have figured out what Blaine was doing a _lot_ sooner, really. He’d busted Blaine looking at Adam Levine and Tom Hardy fan sites on his phone more than once, after all. 

“Maybe,” Blaine says with a shrug.

“I have one, you know,” Kurt comments.

He watches closely for Blaine's reaction, and he's not disappointed when Blaine’s eyes nearly bug out out of his head. “You do?”

“Yup. _Really_ bad decision that Rachel roped me into after graduation”

“Oh,” Blaine says, obviously trying to sound casual. “Where is it?”

Kurt winks. “Let’s see how the Halloween parties go, and maybe I’ll show you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading and Happy Halloween! :D


End file.
